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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28646058">seven minutes in heaven (don't angels need love, too?)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/leifstroganoff/pseuds/leifstroganoff'>leifstroganoff</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Leif Has A Cat, M/M, Parties for The Sake of Team Bonding, Sad Bonding, Seven Minutes In Heaven, Work Parties, i wish i was better at tagging things but i never will be</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:14:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,172</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28646058</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/leifstroganoff/pseuds/leifstroganoff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>So, maybe an <em>actual, </em>honest to god party wasn’t the <em>best </em>idea for team building, but Leif is… <em>kind of running out of ideas already. </em>He feels kind of helpless as he watches people he’s worked with for years but barely knows wander around his apartment with beers and fairly basic cocktails that he prays they’re not gonna spill on anything valuable (which is most of his stuff in the apartment).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Leif Donnelly/George (Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist), Zoey Clarke/Tobin Batra (implied)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>seven minutes in heaven (don't angels need love, too?)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i'm back in rarepair hell &lt;3 </p><p>but real talk i already love george and i wanna note that this was written between e1 and e2 of season two so if i got anything majorly wrong that's proved wrong in the next 12 episodes that's not on me lmao </p><p>this is shamelessly self indulgent but i hope at least one other person can enjoy it &lt;3 &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So, maybe an <em>actual, </em>honest to god party wasn’t the <em>best </em>idea for team building, but Leif is… <em>kind of running out of ideas already. </em>He feels kind of helpless as he watches people he’s worked with for years but barely knows wander around his apartment with beers and fairly basic cocktails that he prays they’re not gonna spill on anything valuable (which is most of his stuff in the apartment). </p><p>It’s bad enough that he feels like he’s losing control at work (he can’t say no to Tobin, he hired the nicest softie ever, who has absolutely no clue what he’s doing, he knows everyone hates the standing desks, and the dogs backfired in just about <em>every</em> way possible), but to watch helplessly as everyone who works under him wanders around his own apartment drunk, pulling <em>his </em>throw pillow onto their laps and bumping into <em>his </em>antique lamp when they’ve had a few too many is another level of terrible that makes him feel a little bit too lightheaded and sweaty and like his heartbeat can’t quite reach the rhythm it’s <em>supposed </em>to beat at. </p><p>At least he’s got Tobin for <em>most </em>of the party, until he’s had one too many “three shot random surprises” to be much of an anxiety help at all and Zoey drops in halfway through to <em>“see if it turned out as disastrous as she thought it would”</em> (and he tries not to be hurt by thinking about exactly <em>how </em>disastrous she thought it would be, because she’s <em>right</em>; it might be good for morale and most of the brogrammers <em>seem </em>to be enjoying themselves, but <em>Leif </em>sure isn’t and his apartment and his <em>cat</em> sure aren’t). </p><p>He’s not even sure <em>where</em> poor Zuko’s hiding with all the noise (he <em>hopes </em>it’s in his room, curled up on his bed where Leif wishes he <em>could </em>be), but he knows he doesn’t see him anywhere in the living room where all the commotion is.</p><p>He finally wills himself to sit down in the living room and at least <em>try </em>to make his way through some forced conversations with colleagues when Tobin plops himself down on the couch next to him and slings a sloppy arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close to slur dangerously close to his ear “<em>seven minutes in heaven</em>”.</p><p>“<em>What?” </em></p><p>“Some of the guys wanna play, they think it’d be funny.” Tobin pulls away, but doesn’t pull his hand from where it rests on his shoulder.</p><p>“Doesn’t that seem…” <em>A little homophobic, for one? </em>He’s used to the chauvinistic attitudes around him (and has <em>participated </em>in them in some of his less fine moments), but as an <em>out </em>bi dude, it feels a little on the nose for them to be so enthusiastic about the concept of kissing guys being hilarious.“A little juvenile?” </p><p>“I don’t know, we’re <em>drunk.</em> It might be <em>fun.”</em> </p><p>Leif raises his eyebrows and looks around at the chaos <em>already</em> surrounding them. </p><p>“We don’t even have a big enough closet.” </p><p>“Chill, I’ll let people in my room. It’s cool.” </p><p>Another glance around the room and he shrugs halfheartedly. It’s not like anything can get <em>worse </em>here (it can, actually, and he really shouldn’t tempt fate like that) and maybe playing a game like this’ll help round people up and away from his precious stuff.</p><p>“<em>Whatever</em>, go for it.” </p><p>Tobin smiles at him as he pulls away, a knowing smile that’s a little too sly for his liking resting on his lips.</p><p>“You’re gonna play, too.” </p><p>“<em>Tobes, </em>no —”</p><p>“Nah, bro, I’m tired of you moping around here. This party was <em>your </em>idea for team bonding, you might <em>try</em> to look like you’re not totes miserable.” </p><p>“I <em>am</em> miserable. I wanna go to <em>bed, </em>Tobes, this was <em>incredibly </em>shortsighted.”</p><p>“So, <em>maybe </em>playing a game’ll bounce you right back. You might not even have to participate, just watch us do dumb shit. You <em>love </em>watching me do dumb shit.” </p><p>A deep breath racks through his tired lungs as he rubs a hand down his face, shaking his head in the process and leading straight into a tired shrug.</p><p>“Fine, whatever. <em>I’ll play.</em>”</p><p>“Aight, <em>dope.”</em></p><p>Tobin stands up then, stepping up swiftly onto their coffee table and kicking a stray beer can out of the way and onto the carpet, where Leif prays to god it was as empty as it sounded when it hit the ground because if he’s gotta deal with beer stains, too, he’s gonna <em>freak. </em></p><p>“<em>Everybody,</em>” His voice booms through the room and the noise dies around them considerably (Leif is grateful for that, at least) as all eyes (or… <em>most </em>eyes) shift to him. “Glen and Sam wanna play <em>Seven Minutes in Heaven. </em>Leif is down, I’m down, anybody else that’s down, c’mere and write your names down, put ‘em in my hat.”</p><p>Tobin hops down rather ungracefully from the table, only stumbling forward a little bit and catching himself on the entertainment center, making Leif’s heart lurch a little bit where their flatscreen shakes. </p><p>Most of the brogrammers join the circle; Glen and Sam, of course, followed by Mike, George, Dave, and Ted and several others whose names Leif is <em>sure </em>he knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, but that he’s far too tired to actually try and recall; he’s surprised when Zoey joins the group of people writing their names down, clearly much drunker than she had been roughly forty minutes prior when he’d last spoken to her. </p><p>After some milling about and waiting, Tobin finally climbs back up on the coffee table with a hat full of names and a smirk on his face as he calls attention to himself again.</p><p>“First, we have…” His hand rifles around in the hat for a second, making a deliberate show of how <em>totally closed </em>his eyes are as he looks away dramatically until he pulls out a piece of paper and reads it. “<em>Leif. </em>Sorry, buddy.” </p><p>He at least has the decency to actually <em>look </em>sorry as he grimaces down at his roommate where he looks some combination of angry-sad-frustrated sulking on the couch. </p><p>“And going with him will be…” He repeats the same show from before as his hand rifles through the pieces of paper and Leif swallows the lump of anxiety forming in his throat. “<em>George. </em>Go on, get in my room, dudes.” </p><p>Leif stands up slowly, running a hand through what had started the night out as perfectly styled hair. </p><p>“We can just use my room, I don’t really wanna… spend seven minutes in your room, no offense.” </p><p>“None taken,” Tobin replies easily, hopping off the coffee table with much more grace than the first time and Leif wishes he could ignore the snickering and giggling from the brogrammers the way Tobin can. “It’s your house, too, brah. I’ll set the timer when that door closes.” </p><p>It really doesn’t <em>feel </em>like it’s his house, too, right now. </p><p>He pushes down that anxious burning in his chest as he steps into his room, waving George in behind him when he just stands there nervously. </p><p>He closes the door behind them, loosening his tie with a sigh as George hovers nervously next to him. As he’s opening his mouth to speak, he sees Zuko out of the corner of his eye crawl out from under his bed and hop up onto it with a small “mew” intended to beg for attention as he rolls onto his back and exposes his tummy, bringing his green eyes to pout at Leif as if he’s never received attention in his life.</p><p>“I - I didn’t know you had a cat.” George’s voice is squeaky when he speaks, fearful eyes locked onto Zuko on the bed as he rubs absently at his wrist and <em>oh. </em>Oh, he gets it now. </p><p>“He’s really a sweetheart,” Leif moves forward to demonstrate, leaning down to scratch his belly lightly, letting a light laugh tumble from his lips as Zuko immediately starts purring and pulling his hand closer in with his paws. “See? He already trusts you, too. He doesn’t usually do this around new people.” </p><p>He glances back from where Zuko’s rubbing his face against his hand to see the tension in George’s shoulders relax a little bit as he cautiously steps forward and sits down next to the cat on the bed. Zuko immediately stretches out his neck to look at what shifted the weight next to him and rolls over, climbing carefully into George’s lap and shoving his head to rub against his stomach before plopping onto his side and looking up at George expectantly.</p><p>“You don’t have to do this, y’know.” George says as he very cautiously reaches his hand to scratch between Zuko’s ears, relaxing considerably when all it earns him is the cat pushing further into his hand with a soft purr.</p><p>“Hm?” Leif raises his eyebrows as he absentmindedly bends down and reaches over to scritch Zuko’s belly where it lays half exposed. </p><p>“You don’t have to pretend to like me just ‘cause they sent us in here.” George sounds almost <em>resigned </em>as he says it, which twists something in Leif’s tipsy heart. </p><p>“I’m not… <em>pretending to like you. </em>I like you, dude.” </p><p>The sad look on George’s face doesn’t leave with that and he’s almost certain he doesn’t believe him (why <em>would </em>he believe him? He hadn’t exactly been the most <em>welcoming </em>or <em>accommodating </em>boss, no matter how hard he’d tried). </p><p>“I mean, I get it, it’s <em>funny</em>. Put the guy no one likes in with the boss, it’s like… the perfect shitty prank.” </p><p>“Oh, <em>no</em>, I don’t think they’d —” He cuts himself off as he hears himself talking, memories of watching George show off angry red scratch marks as Tobin and every brogrammer in the bullpen (including Leif, which only makes a little bit of guilt swirl around in his stomach as he sits down on the bed next to him) laughed flowing through his head. “No, they… totally would. That - that sucks, I’m sorry.” </p><p>Leif’s voice is matter of fact and empty of any real emotion, but it’s no less honest than he feels as George’s sad eyes meet the ground next to him. </p><p>“I shouldn’t have hired you.” Leif says, the words leaving his mouth before they’ve fully processed in his brain. George’s eyes move from where they’ve been resting on Zuko to look at Leif’s profile where he stares at the bedroom door. </p><p>
  <em>“Oh…” </em>
</p><p>As soon as George’s slightly shocked, yet slightly resigned, voice hits his ears, Leif’s eyes widen as his head turns quickly to look at him.</p><p>“Oh, <em>no</em>, I didn’t mean it like that!” There’s a crack around the edges of his voice as he shakes his head emphatically, shifting so that he’s fully facing George now, one leg drawn up underneath the other to sit sideways. “I’m just… I meant <em>I </em>shouldn’t have hired you. Like… <em>me </em>specifically. I’m not… this is <em>really </em>hard for me to admit, but I’m not - I’m not really doing too hot a job at this managing thing.”</p><p>Now it’s <em>his</em> turn to avoid eye contact with George, choosing instead to focus on where George’s hand is still scratching lightly between Zuko’s ears. </p><p>“I think you’re doing a great job.” </p><p>George’s voice brings Leif’s head back up to meet soft brown eyes that are looking at him with a faint appreciative smile. </p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“I mean, I didn’t really like the dogs, but… I think you can figure out why, that’s not really on you.”</p><p>“I mean, it - it kinda is, I brought them in. And then I didn’t tell Tobin to knock it off because I’m so…” He trails off, facing back towards the doorway, where he doesn’t have to look at George’s soft, understanding face. “I can’t lose his friendship. And I know that’s not… that’s not a responsible way of thinking as a manager and I’ve gotta move past that, but… I was panicking, hardcore.” </p><p>“It’s okay, I get it. I’d do just about anything to feel included, too.” Leif looks back at him at that, a small appreciative smile on his own face now. “Besides, ever since Zoey yelled at him, Tobin’s been such a nice guy. Even if everybody else hasn’t quite got the memo, yet… you two have been pretty good.”</p><p>There’s a small silence as Leif worries his lip, eyes squinting a little bit as he processes that maybe he’s not <em>quite </em>screwing up as much as he thought he was. </p><p>“Now that Tobin’s nicer, things have actually been… really enjoyable with you leading.”</p><p>“<em>Really?” </em></p><p>“Yeah! You’re like… George Washington and Julius Caesar without all the bad stuff they did.” </p><p>Leif looks down at that, feeling the blush coloring his cheeks as he can’t help the smile that creeps up with it, shaking his head with a slight laugh. </p><p>“Well, I don’t know about… <em>all that.” </em>He looks up again as he speaks, hoping that he looks as appreciative as he feels for the support. “Thanks, anyway, though.” </p><p>A quiet silence falls over them as George returns his attention to petting Zuko and Leif checks his watch (fruitlessly, as he doesn’t actually remember what time they’d been sent into his room). </p><p>“Have you ever been asked out as a joke?” </p><p>The question surprises Leif as his head snaps up from looking at his wrist.</p><p>“Uh, I - yeah, a couple times. Shitty… popular girls in high school, thought it would be funny to ask out one of the nerdy theatre kids.” </p><p>“<em>That’s</em>… what it felt like.” His voice is almost a whisper, just loud enough that Leif can make it out, even if he can’t quite make out what he means by it, raising his eyebrows in confusion as George timidly meets his eyes. “I shouldn’t have even put my name in the hat, but I wanted to participate. Wanted to feel <em>included, </em>I guess. But then they said <em>‘Leif’ </em>and ‘<em>George’ </em>and I felt like I was right back in high school and my crush was asking me out just to laugh about it with her friends after I said yes. Too enthusiastically and too earnest and they just… they thought it was the funniest thing ever. It probably wasn’t even anything, really just two names out of a hat, but...” </p><p>“No, I get it.” Leif places his hand tentatively on George’s knee and Zuko hops up at that, pushes under Leif’s arm and skitters back to lean against one of Leif’s dark grey pillows. “Your first couple weeks here were pretty horrible, dude. I would probably think the worst, too.” </p><p>“Thanks for being so… <em>kind</em>.” George glances back at Zuko before turning back to Leif. “This was actually <em>nice.” </em></p><p>“Yeah,” Leif smiles and lightly bumps their shoulders together, his hand still notably on his knee. “If it helps, if I were your crush, in this hypothetical, back in high school, scenario - it would totally be a real asking out.” </p><p>“Really?” </p><p>“<em>Yeah, </em>you’re pretty rad.” </p><p>George smiles lightly and Leif can see how flustered he is at Leif’s own bright smile beaming back at him. Leif leans in to press a light kiss to his cheek with a smaller smile now. Their eyes lock as he pulls away, until George closes the distance Leif’s just created with a kiss on the lips instead, deepened when George pushes into it further, gripping Leif’s leg like his life depends on it as Leif’s tongue lightly works its way into his mouth, his hand moving to cup George’s jaw as they melt into each other. That is, until there’s a sharp knock on his door and Leif jumps back as Glen’s voice comes through it with <em>“seven minutes are up”</em>.</p><p>Leif’s tongue darts out to lick suddenly dry lips as he catches his breath, letting his head nod slightly as his hand rests gently over George’s. </p><p>“Maybe this party wasn’t a horrible idea.” He remarks, getting him a confused look from George as he stands up and waves for George to follow, opening the door and reentering the crowd of brogrammers that’s mostly calmed down now; sitting on couches and chairs and talking instead of moving around and spilling things and <em>knocking into things.</em></p><p>His eyes search for Tobin, a little bit confused on why <em>Glen </em>had informed them of their time being up instead of him, and finds him rather quickly with his arm around Zoey and honest to god <em>giggles </em>falling from her lips as they talk enthusiastically about something and honestly? He doesn’t wanna go near that with a six foot pole right now, the feel of George’s lips still fresh on his own. </p><p>He watches Glen get Tobin’s attention as he stands in his doorway, George standing slightly in front of him. </p><p>“Woah, <em>okay, </em>they made it out.” Tobin clumsily takes his arm from around Zoey as he stands up again, clambering up onto the coffee table with the least grace he’s had doing it all night, grabbing his hat on the way up. “<em>Next round,” </em>He makes the same show he has every other time, moving the hat around in front of him as his hand searches until he opens his eyes and reads the piece of paper. “<em>Oh, </em>it’s ya boy, Tobin.” </p><p>He tosses the piece of paper with his name onto the coffee table beneath him. </p><p>“And <em>with me will be…” </em>The same show once more, with a flourish of his hand as he opens his eyes and reads out the name. “Everyone’s favorite boss lady, Zoey.” </p><p>Zoey looks hesitant at first as she looks up at him, but shrugs and follows him when he hops off the table. <em>Hey, that’s on her for putting her name in the hat. She knew the risks she was taking. </em></p><p>As Tobin passes him on the way into his own room, he eyes him suspiciously, looking him up and down. </p><p>“<em>You </em>seem happier.” It’s teasing, but well-meant and it does bring a sheepish smile to Leif’s face; he’s fine with Tobin’s teasing now that the rest of the brogrammers have zoned out again, no longer interested in what’s happening now that they know who’s gonna be spending the next seven minutes in a room together (and it still feels <em>so </em>childish, but he can’t really bring himself to care with the weight that’s been lifted off his shoulders). </p><p>“I am.” </p><p>“Cool, cool.” </p><p>Tobin thwaps Leif’s chest lightly with a smile before ushering Zoey into his own room and leaving Leif and George standing awkwardly by his doorway. </p><p>Leif lets himself smile for a second before leading George over to their dining table; still in the same room as everyone else, but distinctly separated. A place they could talk without having to almost shout at each other, which they spent the rest of the night doing until everyone else either passed out or left. </p><p>So, maybe an <em>actual, </em>honest to god party wasn’t the <em>best </em>idea for team building, but maybe it wasn’t the <em>worst, </em>either. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>comments feed my family and keep me young and beautiful</p></blockquote></div></div>
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